


Forget Me Not

by cryingfanaticse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Dean and Castiel memory loss, Demons, Memory Loss, Multi, Sam is killing the demons, forget me not flowers, lost in New York, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryingfanaticse/pseuds/cryingfanaticse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel wake up without memories. They search themselves, finding only Driver's Licences that tell them their names...Robert Bowie and Rex Cullen. Sam is searching for them, and he's getting angry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Robert and Rex

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fic. So, here we go. I'm hyperventilating.

Two men wake up in the middle of central park. One of them is wearing a dirty trench coat, he has dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes; the other wears a worn out leather jacket, he has green apple eyes and short dirty brown hair. They wake up, laying side by side, feeling the ache that sleeping on the ground brings, at least, they think it's the ache sleeping on the ground brings. They open their eyes and look at each other, knowing they know the other, but not knowing why. They look away, realizing the ground is covered in thousands and thousands of small flowers. The flowers are strange. They aren't attached to the ground, they're spread around on the grass, stems detached from anything permanent. The man with the shorter hair points at the other man's head. 

"You have... Flowers. In your hair."

"Oh, thank you. Uhm, I think. And, I think I know you. I don't know from where."

"Where are we? Do you have any idea?"

"I have no clue. I mean, it looks like... A park. I think."

He looks around the area. He's searching. He doesn't know what for, but he knows he's searching.

"Yeah, yeah, I agree. Whatever that means."

The man in the trench coat sticks his hand out, not really understanding why he's doing it.

"Hi, I'm... I'm... Uhm."

The man makes a confused face, not knowing his name. Now that he starts to think about it, he doesn't really know anything about himself. Neither does the other man. For a moment, they're silent, basking in the shock of their mutual memory loss.

"You don't have to say. I'm having the same problem right now. I can't really remember anything. Wow, this is really weird."

The man in the leather jacket starts to pat his sides, picking up a behavior he seems to think will help him with his particular predicament. He finds his pocket and pulls out a beat up leather wallet.

"Well, apparently I really like this material. Everything's made out of it."

The leather man laughs slightly, he handles the leather pouch for a short moment.

He opens his wallet and furrows his brow, "Apparently I am called 'Robert Bowie.' That's an interesting name. I don't know why I think that, but I must be awesome. Look in your coat. The, uh, pocket."

He does. He searches the many pockets in his trench coat and comes out with a black wallet, much thinner than Robert's, with only an ID in it. 

"Rex... Cullen. I'm Rex... Cullen, apparently. F.B.I. I don't know what that is."

"Neither do I."

The man with the leather, Robert, sticks out his hand much like Rex had before. It's a friendly gesture, but to them it seems strange. It just doesn't seem friendly enough.

"Nice to meet you Rex Cullen. I'm going to lay back down and hyperventilate now."

"I'll join you."

They lay back down in the flowers, and they don't hyperventilate. They want to, but they don't. For some reason, the energy of the other person calms them down. They look at each other for a second, then look away, feeling weird about staring for some reason. Probably the same reason the handshake didn't seem like enough.

"My stomach hurts," Rex says. His stomach makes a sound as he speaks.

"Food. I feel like food would help that."

"Where do we get food."

"Let's find people, and let's follow them."

"Will that help."

"Probably. I feel like it will help."

"Okay, let's go for it."

They both stand up. They cut a path through the grass, realizing the whole patch is covered with those same strange flowers that were around them. The same ones they're pulling out of their pockets and their hair. Well, Rex's hair. Robert's hair is too short. Almost military-like, really.

"Why are those... Flowers, everywhere, do you think."

"I have no Idea, man."

Soon they find a group, it's more like a stream, with all of the people flowing in one direction, towards an area that seems more active. They're quiet, they don't have anything to talk about. They don't know where they're from, they don't know anything about their pasts. What do two people who don't know anything about each other or themselves talk about?

They follow the river of people through the park and onto a street with bright lights and loud noises.

"This city is interesting," Rex says, "I like the buildings."

"It seems really busy. I don't really know how I feel about it."

A man handing out brochures on the street thrust one into Robert's hands.

"New York City. Huh. Okay. At least we know where we are now. New York City."

"Huh, I've heard that before."

"I have too. Hey Rex, do you think maybe we should go to a doctor?"

"A doctor?"

"Yeah, a healing man."

When you have amnesia, sometimes you just remember weird things. You know what they are. You don't know why you know what they are. It's frustrating. Especially frustrating to Rex, because he can't remember for the life of him whether it's a good idea for him to go see a doctor.

"I'm going to vote no."

"Alright, then let's just pick a person and follow them. Pick a person that looks like they have a purpose."

"Alright."

Robert and Rex latch themselves onto an angry looking woman in a gray pantsuit who takes a staircase down to what looks to them like a giant concrete dungeon.

"Robert, where are we?"

"I have no idea."

"Deja Veu, haha."

Rex looks at him. He doesn't think he's funny, not the memory joke, at least.

"Alright. Too soon."

They look around and see people heading toward rotating bars that lead to a darker part of the dungeon. They follow, keeping pace until they reach the rotating bars, then they slow down, not knowing how to work the strange contraption. They walk into the bars like they see the others do, but they don't budge.

"What?"

"No idea."

"Hmm."

Robert tests his weight on the boundaries between the bars. He swings himself up and over , Rex follows, and then they hear an alarm and angry voices shouting for them to stop. They do, but that doesn't stop the police officers from pushing them up against the wall and putting handcuffs on them.


	2. Piles and PIles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is gone and Sam is upset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha this took forever because i kept reading drarry fics and getting distracted. darn you, drarry.

_"Dean… What are you doing here?"  
The man Sam identifies as his brother cocks his head and frowns.   
"Dean?" The man says. "Who's Dean?"_

_His voice sounds confused, wary, and Sam would believe him if it wasn't obviously obviously obviously his brother standing in front of him.  
"Dude, cut it out. Dean, are you here to help me out with this latest demon or just make jokes for 12 year olds?" _

_Dean eyes widen comically and he looks around.  
"Uh... Demon? Look, buddy, do you need me to get you to a hospital or-JESUS CHRIST!"_

_"Sssss...Hello Sam, Dean." The demon had appeared out of nowhere and now holds Dean in a lock, a single sharp dagger hovering over the man's neck.  
Dammit, if Dean hadn't been acting stupid, this wouldn't have happened. He should have heard that demon sneaking up on him and, Sam looks down noticing, Dean has the demon-killing dagger in his hand.   
Sam looks up, expecting him to use it (a simple push back of his hand and he hits the beast), but Dean seems preoccupied with breathing heavily. His eyes are rolling wildly, Sam would call it crazily, and oh god, is that a pee stain?   
He holds up his hands placating to the demon, who seems delighted to have scared the older Winchester.  
"Okay, okay... What do you want?"  
The demon grins slimily, and cocks a brow.   
"You're not going to get that out of me THAT easily Winchester", he says and with a small wrist flick, slices Dean's throat. _

Sam wakes up with a shout of "DEAN!" poised on his lips and a shiver running itself down his spine. The dream had been unusually vivid, and Sam calms himself down, shaking off the nightmare with a deep sigh and a hand rubbing his face.   
He looks to his left, checking on Dean to confirm it was a dream.   
...  
Shit.  
...  
Sam's breath caught to see the empty bed. It could have been that Dean had gone out to get some snacks, or walk, or get some ice, but with a dream about a clueless Dean and his death fresh on Sam's mind, Sam was worried.   
He got out of bed and began to inspect the room.   
Their was a note.

_Sam,_

_Went out for snacks._

Sam's sigh of relief was shattering and he dropped heavily back onto his own bed. God, the dream had been so surreal.   
Sam's eyes passed over the dresser between his and Dean's beds, then frowned. Dean's cell phone was there.   
They never left the hotel room with out their phones, even for short to and back trips. The chances of one of them disapearing was too high and Dean KNEW that, he endorsed it.  
A small prick of fear began to poke into Sam's relief. 

The first thing to see to was the Impala. Sam didn't know what he was hoping for, already knowing something was off, when he opened the door of the hotel room and stepped out to see a pile of flowers and a comic looking New-York hat, depecting the spikes of Lady Liberty.   
The faint smell of sulfur sent a whole torrent of fear and worry and where-the-fuck-is-Dean down his spine.   
The Impala was still parked as it was and Sam had some research to do.   
The urge to move and DO something was constant, but with some google, Sam is just left more confused and scared.   
Forget-me-not flowers? And a NY souvenir?  
That is all he has to go with and Sam chews his lip.

It feels wrong. It feels like a trap, a really obvious trap, but damn, what can Sam do? He could continue the work of the case but the fear that a knife may be brought down on his brother shoots that through. The city will have to deal with their Banshee problem as is. As much as the work came first, their were rules and a rule was the Sam was not going to leave Dean to the mercy of a demon, no matter how far fetched it was.   
He thought to call Castiel, but the placid operator voice calmly told it was no longer a valid number. Odd.   
Sam couldn't tell if it was connected or Castiel was changing phones or providers, but he couldn't care. 

He was going to New York. He was going to find Dean.

The rational part of Sam's mind quickly calls for a round of other hunter's who could possibly know.

An hour later of "No, sorry"s and Sam is feeling sick. Singer had been worried ("Find him, will you Sam?) but no one had any real substance on what could have happened. 

Okay. Sam knows what happened.

Demons.

Demons always fuck everything up, but dammit, Sam needs more to go with than a haywire trip to a humongous city, thronged and over flowing with millions of people. He has to find one and Sam doesn't know what has happened to Dean. Millions of attics or basements he could be locked in, stuck in fancy aparement condos, or in the middle of sky scrapers. It's terrifying and daunting but...  
Sam has no other choice.

He is going to save his brother. Sam is reminded of the scene in Horton Hears a Who, when the clover had been dropped into a whole field of clovers. Horton had picked each one and asked it "Hello?", until piles and piles of discarded clovers lay around. The last clover to be picked had answered and god, small Sam had always thought that was a cheap deal, that there had to be some easier way.

Left with nothing to do but pick each and every person through New York, Sam gets into the Impala and starts up.  
It's a modest drive from South Carolina to New York and the slowly yet suring encompassing dread and frustration that is beginning to take over his mind will only have so long to stew before he can release it.

There will be piles and piles of people left around until Sam finds Dean Winchester, no matter how long it takes.


	3. Learning the Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, Robert and Rex jumped the turnstile. That's a big no-no,

Robert tests the handcuffs. Pulling his hands, creating deeper ridges where he already had angry red lines. He has a look on his face because he can't pull his hands apart. Rex sits calmly, understanding that they must have done something wrong, not understanding what. They sit together, in a barred cell, in a small police station in the heart of the subway system. 

"Do you two think you're funny or something?"

They look at each other in confusion.

A big guy, a police officer, maybe just a security guard, comes into their cell and knocks their heads together, just for fun. Both of them wince in pain.

"We don't have any clue what we did wrong!" Robert shouts after the pain subsides, anger pouring out of him in a way that seems almost too familiar. He has a bad feeling about this guy, and not just because he's holding them against their will.

"So you're just stupid?"

Robert and Rex share a look. Are they stupid? Are they smart? What kind of men are they? They don't know. They don't know anything. They stay silent, not having a good answer for the man, not really knowing if he wants an answer at all.

"You can't really do anything to you because you stopped. You didn't run. That was a good move. But I'm not gonna let you go just yet, you look... interesting."

Robert and Rex look at each other again, this time in question. What can that possibly mean?

"Let me just take those cuffs off, make you more comfortable."

Robert rips his hands away from the officer as soon as he unlocks his cuffs, he rubs his wrists with his hands. Rex sticks his hands towards the officer, looking down at his barely dented wrists with confusion and wonder.

"I needed to make sure it was a fair fight. The Winchester and his angel, wait until I tell the boss." 

The security guard blinks and his eyes turn black. All of his eyes, even the whites.

"What the-" Robert swears, "What is wrong with your eyes?!"

The demon, they don't know it's a demon of course, but that's what it is. Anyway, the demon was halfway to knifing them when he stopped and got the same look of confusion Rex had seen on Robert and Robert had seen on Rex. 

"Oh my god... He actually pulled it off."

There is a burst of black smoke and then the security guard faints before coughing up the same small flower they had been covered with in the park.

"Robert, I think we need to run."

"Yeah, I think you're right."

So they do. they run as fast as they can, out of the small makeshift jail, up into the streets of New York. When they finally think they'd be lost in the crowd to any pursuer, they stop running, breathing hard. 

"What was that thing."

"I have no idea, man. But we need to get out of this city. If there's one, there's probably more."

"You're right. We need to find transportation."

For now, they walk. Their feet are their transportation. They walk and they walk until they're somewhat away from the crowds and Rex sits on the ground, refusing to walk any farther. Robert sits down next to him.

"Man, do you realize we probably don't even know what we look like?"

"What do you mean? We have our Identification Cards. There are pictures of us on them."

"Well, yeah, but what if we were younger when we got them, or if they aren't pictures of us at all, you know. We don't know how trustworthy we are, and that makes absolutely no sense, but you know what I mean."

"You're right. Now I'm curious. Explain it to me?"

"What?"

"Explain to me what I look like."

"O-okay. Well. You have brown hair. Kind of messy. And, damn, your eyes are really blue. I didn't notice before. Kind of like the sky, but then kind of like the ocean," Robert turns red despite his attempts not to, "You have the start of a beard, like you haven't shaved in a couple of days, but it's nice on you. What about me?"

"Uhm, well you have green eyes, and brown hair, it's really short, almost shaved but not quite that short, longer on the top then the sides. You can see your... Cheekbones? really well."

"Here look at my ID and see if it's the same."

The two men reach into their pockets and swap ID's.

"Almost the same, but different," they say in unison. They share a moment of silence, just staring at each other, green eyes meeting blue and vice versa.

Robert is the first to stand, reaching his hand down to help Rex up.

"I'm going to steal a car."

"What?!"

"You heard me, how else are we going to get out of here."

Rex doesn't argue any further, but the look on his face doesn't give permission. Robert decides he doesn't need permission, and finds a dark blue car that is aesthetically pleasing to him. He gets into the side he determines is the passenger side and sits in the seat, staring for a moment at the wheel and dashboard. Rex sits in the seat next to him.

"How do you plan to steal this vehicle?"

Rex thinks that they will never make it out of the city. The car doesn't have it's keys

"I have an idea."

Robert breaks off the ignition switch and looks at the wires before pulling them apart and creating a spark. The engine roars to life and Robert speeds off, using driving skills he doesn't remember having.

Rex's face shifts into a look of astonishment.

"How in the world did you do that? What did you even do?"

"Honestly, I have no clue."

"I feel like all of this is very illegal."

"Yah think?"


	4. Pissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is pissed.

"Have you found him yet?"  
Sam grimanced at the tone of Bobby's voice over the tinny cellphone. 

"No, but I can see the city line now. I'll find him Bobby. We know he's somewhere in there right?" Sam's voice was tired and hopeful, the days drive to get to New York having worn him down to the few emotions he could rely on to get him to his brother. 

Sam's words hung in the phone line for what seemed an age, and then Bobby let out a light cough and continued.  
"Yeah, I spose so. Just… be careful, Sam."

Sam scoffed. "Of course I will Bobby. Dean's the reckless one, remember?"

Bobby harumped with definite disbelief.

"Right. Call me when you find him, Sam, and good luck."

"I'll find him, Bobby. Good bye." 

The cell phone snapped shut and Sam took a long moment to breath. From the hotel, Sam hadn't taken any rest stops. The few refuels he did were succinct and to the point, as his entire line of being was still revolving around methods to find his brother in the sprawling, enormous city that was New York. The driver's seat of the Impala was worn, but fit to him differently, and the adjustment he had had to make to the seats made him distinctly aware of the ticking clock he had to find the missing Dean.   
Bags hung under his eyes and Sam could only feel them seem to deepen as he spied the line of traffic appearing over the bridge to the city. He resisted the urge to pound the steering wheel, if only by the small margin of the knowledge that Dean would have his ass if he saw such treatment to his precious Baby.   
Sam predicted hours going by as he stalled in traffic, until finally he broke free. He was quick to park, and, spying a small, dingy coffee shop, more than happy to pack his laptop and journal to settle into something more comfortable.  
Research.  
The buildings that had begun to loom around him as he got deeper into the city were beginning to inject despair into Sam's mind. Finding his brother in one of the most populated, huge, incredible cities? It was a joke and Sam was scared. The place could be crawling for demons, and with police sirens vibrating the air every other 5 minutes, Sam's despair deepened.   
Demon's were usually linked to crimes. In New York, there was always crimes happening, by weird people in weird places, the distinctions of the natural and supernatural blurred in terrible places.   
How was he to find a single man in a city that never took a break?  
Sam breathed.  
Back to research.  
It was his security blanket whenever anything went wrong and Sam was good at it. After hundreds of cases, he knew how to search, what to search, and what was real.   
Ordering himself a small cup of coffee, Sam settled down and opened his Laptop.   
It had been early morning when he had entered and it was almost 3 pm when he finally got a hit. It was a blog post on the petty events of New York.   
"BOSSES OR IDIOTS? CBECK IT OUT."  
The headline read. Attached was a blurry gif, obviously from some security footage. Sam's heart leapt to see a tan grey blob and a black grey blob leaping over the turnstile to the subway. The gif played back over and over (as gifs were made to do) and Sam stared.  
It was his brother.   
It had to be.   
The leather jackets and close cropped hair, while commonly seen on people, was not often accompanied by a person in a beige trench coat.   
Why the angel was with him only furthered Sam's theory.   
Any suspicions that this was just a chance thing was wiped from his mind at the sight of the angel. It was demons and Sam was pissed.   
Their ability to deal with damned things had increased substantially from their frist encounter, but still,it always seemed demons were the ones responsible for fucking everything up.   
They had taken Sam's brother and it was personal. Sam was going to tear them apart.  
Sam found the police station easily with the distinct clues shown in the video he had watched of his brother.   
When he got to the location, it was very apparently shut down and abandomed.   
Breaking in, Sam only found the dead body of a cop. The smell of sulfur, and goddammit, some forget-me-nots.  
What the fuck.


	5. The One Where they find a Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventures of Robert and Rex

"How in the world do you know how to drive." 

When the realization sunk in that Robert SHOULDN'T know how to drive, Rex began to panic. He had one hand grasping the center console and the other hand resting on the handle of the door for easy escape.

"I dunno. Intuition? Instinct? Talent?"

"Oh, yeah, that makes me feel safe."

"Listen buddy, this is just as terrifying for me as it is for you."

"I really don't thi-" 

It was the momentary glance away from the almost abandoned road that did it. It was a momentary glance, then a thud, and a loud screech that definitely didn't come from the car, or either of its occupants.

"What the hell?!" Robert puts the car into park and then jumps out, examining whatever it was he hit. "Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no."

Rex gets out of the car and comes to Roberts side, the impending argument vanishing from his mind when he sees the brown and golden dog trying to get up, but failing, due to what seemed like a bad leg.

"Robert. Robert, stop panicking, he looks like he's going to be fine. We just have to take him to a... A... A pet doctor."

"Yeah. Yeah okay." Robert approaches the dog and scoops him into his arms. "It's okay buddy. We're not going to hurt you. We're going to get you all fixed up."

"Robert, let me carry him. You have to drive."

Robert looks down at the dog and back up a couple of times before saying, "Can't you drive?"

"I'm going to go with no. Seeing as I have no idea how a car works."

"Okay, here." Robert slips the dog carefully into Rex's arms. Rex's fingertips brush the dogs leg slightly, and at first he whimpered, but then their was a faint popping sound and a slight yellow light. The dog lifted his head. If dogs have the ability to look surprised, this dog did.

"What is it buddy?" Robert walks up to the dog in his companions arms and scratches behind his ears, "What?"

The dog starts to move his leg, the one that they had suspected was broken.

"Robert. I think it's- I think it's fixed."

"How can it be fixed? Broken bones don't just fix, do they?"

\--

"Boys, it doesn't look like there's anything wrong with your dog. Why would you bring it to the emergency room?"

Robert and Rex share a purely astonished look.

"We thought he swallowed a quarter. Yeah, my friend here," Robert claps Rex on the shoulder and Rex winces, "He left his change lying around and we thought- our dog- swallowed it."

"Well, I wouldn't advise you t feed your dog a regular diet of pocket change, but, dogs have the ability to eat a lot of things without repercussions, so I wouldn't be worried."

"Okay, thanks doc. We appreciate it."

"No problem, that's what I'm here for."

\--

"How the hell did you do that?"

The boys are back in the car, now with a mixed breed companion sticking his head in between their's from the back seat.

"How the hell did I do what?"

"Fix the dog's leg! It was broken, and you touched him, and now it's fixed. Damn it man, All I can do is drive. That's not cool! Why can't I fix broken dogs?"

"I didn't mean to do it. I mean, I WANTED his leg to be fixed, but it's not like I knew what would happen when I touched him."

"Something tells me that this is really weird."

"Yeah, I share the feeling."

For a moment they drive in silence, but the silence is interrupted by the question everybody must be asking themselves.

"Hey, Rex?"

"Yes?"

"Can we keep the dog?"

"Of Course We Can! You hit him with your car it's the least you could do!"

Robert smiles. He liked the dog. For some reason it reminded him of someone. Someone he couldn't quite remember. I guess amnesia does that to you.

"You have to name him though."

"Why do I have to be the one to name him?"

"You hit him with your car."

"STop Bringing that Up!"

"Okay, I will. But you still have to name him."

Robert thinks for a moment. He doesn't remember naming anything before. Of course, his choices are limited, seeing as his memory only goes back about a day and a half.

"Sammy? Sammy. We have to name him Sammy. It's perfect."

"Where did you come up with that?"

"I don't know, it just sort of came to me."


End file.
